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#do not ask how it flooded you will not like the answer
hotchnisslvr · 2 days
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“After Hours”
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader
Summary: After ignoring orders on a case, Hotch calls you into his office to teach you an important lesson: there's no 'I' in team. (Highly Explicit)
Warnings: smut, p in v, blindfolds, bindings, delayed orgasm, vibrators, light choking, nipple clamps, dom!aaron hotchner
Words: 5.4k
Read on AO3:
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Your spine stiffens as he calls your name. His voice is flat, but you know that tone. Just your name on his lips is an order all its own.
Derek’s eyes meet yours as you rise from your desk. “Good luck,” he whispers, though you’re the only two in the bullpen. You’d stayed late to finish paperwork after the closing of your most recent case before the weekend.“Nothing good ever comes from that tone.”
You smooth the front of your skirt and adjust the front of the button-up blouse that’s tucked into it. You thank Morgan as you pass his desk and he nods before hunching back over the file he’d been working on. Swallowing your nerves, you ascend the stairs toward his office. The blinds are shut, but the yellow light of the lamps peeks out from around the edges.
Hesitantly, you rap your knuckles against the door.
“Come in,” Hotch answers.
You do as he says and he doesn’t look up from the file on his desk. “Shut the door.”
Again, you do as you’re told and stand awkwardly by it, awaiting further instruction.
“Sit.”
He doesn’t indicate where you should sit; the couch or one of the two leather backed chairs in front of his desk. You choose the chair closest to the door and cross your legs, and hope he can’t hear how hard your heart is hammering against your ribcage.
“You went into that warehouse, alone, before we could confirm whether the unsub was there.”
“Sir—”
“Don’t interrupt,” he orders and you clamp your lips shut. “I understand that your actions resulted in saving that girl’s life. You were able to control the bleeding until medics could arrive. Your actions, brave as they were, were reckless and stupid.”
His words sting and you have to fight to school your facial expression, but you can feel the crimson rush of embarrassment flood your cheeks.
“You got lucky,” he continues, his voice hard. “We were able to apprehend the unsub as he was returning, but you had no idea if he was there or not. You didn’t wait for backup. We work as a team, you know this. The minute we start acting on impulse is the minute one of us gets hurt, or worse.” His eyes are steeled when they meet yours. “Do you understand?”
You nod your head, “Yessir.”
“Good,” he responds curtly.
“This can’t happen again,” he says, rising from his chair. Your eyes follow his movements as he shrugs out of his blazer and tosses it over his desk onto the vacant chair beside you. He steps from behind his desk and slowly approaches you, rolling the cuffs of his sleeves as he does so. He moves behind you and the click of him removing the paddle holster from his belt causes you to jump and you curse yourself for flinching.
“Something on your mind, agent?” he asks as he tosses his weapon onto the chair beside you.
You straighten your posture and answer him with as much nonchalance as you can muster. “No, sir. I’m just wondering if this will result in a write up or other form of disciplinary action.”
“As far as the Bureau is concerned, you saved that girl’s life. A meeting with me is all that’s needed to review your actions.” The soles of his dress shoes click against the tile and you feel his presence behind you.
“Whether you feel like another disciplinary action is necessary is entirely up to you.”
He always leaves the decision-making to you, but if this happens, it’ll be the first time it’s ever happened in his office, at your place of work. The thought terrifies you, but thrills you all the same.
So you dip your chin in the slightest of nods and the click of the lock on his door solidifies what’s about to happen.
“Good girl.”
Your nipples harden at the sound of his praise and you splay your fingers against your thighs, pressing the tips of your fingers into the muscle to keep yourself under control. Your body betrays you though as you feel your underwear dampen, your arousal building already. God, fuck him and his ability to do this to you with words alone.
His shoes click against the floor as he nears you and the hairs on your neck stand on end. You watch, eyes hungry, as he removes his necktie. He steps behind you once more and the familiar feel of silk over your eyes is almost a comfort as he secures it at the back of your head. With one sense cut off, you immediately feel your arousal’s intensity increase tenfold and you nearly want to cry out and come right then and there. Only he had this effect on you. Only he could do this to you.
Your chest is already heaving as you feel his hands slide over your shoulders and his mouth finds your ear. He inhales deeply and exhales slowly, his breath hot on your skin. “What’s your safe word?”
“Sage,” you breathe quietly.
“Good girl,” he murmurs and his hands slide over your breasts. You try to moan, but his hand quickly clamps over your mouth, firmly, but not enough to hurt you. His lips find your ear again, “Derek’s gone home for the night but Rossi is working late right behind that wall.” You can’t see it, but you know exactly how close his office is in proximity to Rossi’s. “So, keep quiet.” His hands slide over the fabric of your bra and you squirm against them. “Or I’ll have to gag that pretty little mouth.”
You swallow and nod to affirm your understanding. Your hands have moved to the arms of the leather chair, your fingers pressing into the material as you await his next move. Slowly, he unbuttons the first few buttons of your blouse and you shiver as the backs of his knuckles brush against your skin as he does so.
He slips his hands inside your bra and just holds both of your breasts for a moment, his thumbs skirting over the peaks of your sensitive nipples. You whimper and hear the soft laugh rumble from his lips. “Like diamonds,” he muses regarding the hardened tips and lifts both of your breasts, using the backs of his hands to push down the fabric of the cups so they sit prominently atop the underwire.
He hums low in his throat and your throat bobs. You feel his presence shift away from you. A drawer opens and items shuffle around. Something is turning and a soft click echoes in the room. “I figured it was only a matter of time before this happened in the office, so I tucked away a few…” he pauses as he draws nearer, “provisions.”
His cologne invades your senses, the cedar-based scent is intoxicating. He draws something small and metallic across your chest and a soft whimper escapes your lips. “Do you know what this is?” he asks, and you can hear the smile on his lips.
You lick your lips and whisper, “Yes.”
His fingers brush along one of your breasts and you inhale sharply as he rolls your sensitive nipple between his fingers. Your back arches slightly against the chair and you feel the dampness between your thighs begin to spread. You squeeze your legs together to try and assuage the ache to no avail.
“I’ve hardly touched you and you’re already falling to pieces,” he murmurs as he nips at the skin of your breast. You hiss and barely stifle a yelp as the nipple clamp pinches into place. Instinctively, your body jerks forward and Hotch chuckles as he catches you. He flicks the now-swollen nipple and you bury your face into the fabric of his dress shirt to keep from shouting. The sharp sting of the clamp compounds your pleasure and you know what comes next, but nothing ever prepares you for the pinch of the second clamp. You bite down into the muscle of his pectoral through his shirt to stifle the yelp that escapes your lips, hissing and moaning as the feeling overwhelms your senses. The growl that Hotch emits in response is primal. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and you don’t even remember when you had thrown your arms around him.
His hands slide up and over your arms. He curves his hands to cuff around your wrists. “As much as I love your mouth on me,” he says darkly, his hold tightening. His nose pushes into your hair as he brings his lips to your ears. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.”
There’s no time to gasp as he pulls you to your feet and whirls you around so that your back presses into him, and you feel him pressing against you. The quick jostling causes the clamps to tighten and your nipples protest the pulling sensation. Hotch threads his arms through yours and palms your breasts, the warmth of his hands momentarily soothing the sting of the clamps. His fingers slide down your stomach to unbutton the remainder of your shirt, which he then pulls down and discards absentmindedly; leaving you in your knee-length pencil skirt and black stilettos. Your exposed skin bristles in the cool air conditioning.
“Hands behind your back,” he instructs and you do as you’re told.
“Good girl,” he praises. Your ears prick as he unbuckles his belt, and you feel the throbbing at your core increase. He loops the belt around your wrists and pulls the leather taught, binding them together.
He tugs the belt, indicating you to follow his movements and you do so. He guides you, one hand on the belt, and one on your back. Slowly, he pushes his hand forward along your spine, urging you to bend forward. Your breasts press into the wood of his desk and he pushes his pelvis against your ass, a soft moan escaping his lips as he presses his dick into the curve of your hip.
“I wonder,” he purrs as he releases his grip on the belt. You pull at the leather wrapped around your wrists, hoping to brush your fingers against his hands and miss them. He chuckles as his hand curves around your hip. His fingers drop below the waistband of your skirt and you squeeze your thighs together as they continue to dip between your legs. “Just as I thought,” he says. His fingers pass over your clit and even through your panties, the brief brush sends thousands of tiny bursts of energy pulsing through your nerve endings. You jerk forward against his hand and he chuckles. “So wet,” he hums. “I bet you’d love for me to take you right here, right now over my desk, and fuck you from behind until you remember there’s no ‘I’ in team.” His hand gently curves around the column of your throat, his fingers pressing gently into the sides of your neck as he draws you up to your full height. The movement causes the clamps to tighten around your nipples and you bite down on your lip to keep from crying out. “Would you like that?”
You nod against his grip on your throat and feel your knees begin to shake, almost buckling. “Come on, baby,” he sings into your ear. “You know it’s not that easy.”
A pitiful whimper leaves your lips and you feel the laugh rumbling from deep within him. Hotch’s fingers drop from your hip and you miss the feeling already, even though you know it’ll only be moments before it’s back.
Suddenly, a buzz fills the air and you nearly fall to your knees when Hotch touches the vibrator to the swell of your breast. His reflexes are quicker than lightning as his hand drops from your throat so he can loop his arm around your waist to keep you from falling.
“If you’re that sensitive up here,” Hotch murmurs as he touches the vibrator once more to your breast. You gasp in response and he chuckles low in his throat. “I can only wonder,” he touches the vibrator to your navel and begins to drag it down the length of your abdomen, “what happens when I touch you down here.”
The vibrator grazes the fabric of your panties just north of your clit and you gasp aloud, an inhuman sound erupting from your lips. Hotch quickly lifts the vibrator and pulls you taut against his body as he falls into the chair behind his desk. Securely rooted on his lap, the hand around your waist snakes around your chest and covers your mouth. He kisses the hollow of your throat before his lips find your ear. “What did I say about keeping quiet?”
You swallow and mumble an apology followed by ‘sir,” and you feel his erection twitch against your thigh. A devious smile plays upon your lips and he can feel against his hand. He knows that you’re aware of how much power you have over him, but he’s about to do the same.
The vibrator dances along your thigh and your legs quake against his as you tuck your feet around his calves to hold yourself as steady as you’re able to.
“That’s right baby, anchor yourself against me.”
Your skirt rolls up your legs as you squirm against him and that only makes it easier for him to access the part of you he so desperately craves and you so desperately need him to touch.
He touches the vibrator to the southernmost part of you and you gasp against his hand as your body bucks against the sensation. Slowly, he drags the vibrator up your center and you feel the buzz like electricity in your veins. When it touches your clit, you moan. Hotch responds by lowering the speed of the vibrator to draw out the pleasure.
“Your moaning is music to me,” he murmurs as he kisses the column of your throat. Your chest heaves against his arm as he circles that tight bundle of nerves in small circles. “It tells me how much you’re enjoying this. Tell me,” he says, and his voice is low in his throat. “Are you enjoying this?”
You nod quickly against his hand and cry out against the palm of his hand as you feel the pressure in your abdomen begin to blossom.
“Do you want to come?” he asks. The hand over your mouth is still there, and he strokes your cheek with his thumb.
Again, you nod vigorously.
The pressure is building, that familiar warmth spreading through you. Your chest heaves. Your breaths become shallower as you cope with the budding orgasm. Just as the wave is about to crest, Hotch switches the vibrator off and pulls it away, halting the wave in its tracks.
You buck forward as the denial immediately sets in, leaving you wanting, needing more. Your clit throbs, pulsating against the damp fabric of your panties and you can only picture the smug look on Hotch’s face. He thinks he’s got you right where he wants you, but you know how to play this game too.
His erection sits right against your ass. Ensuring your feet are tucked tightly around his calves, you tighten your abdomen and roll your body, allowing your ass to grind against the entire length of him. His grip on you loosens as pleasure courses through him. He’d not been expecting that. You continue to grind against him and you feel each twitch of his dick beneath you. A tight moan escapes his lips, and you moan in response knowing it’ll get him all the more excited.
You feel him tilt his pelvis, leaning into the movement. He lowers his hand as he groans into your ear and a grin splits your lips. You turn your head and press a kiss at the corner of his lips.
“It’s not my turn,” Hotch murmurs, though it turns into more of a grunt as you continue working him through his pants
“I thought this was to remind me there’s no ‘I’ in team,” you say coyly. If you weren’t blindfolded, you’d be batting your lashes at him because you know it makes him weak.
“You’re right,” Hotch answers. “We are a team.” The vibrator switches back and the sound stops you in your tracks, which simultaneously earns a frustrated sound from him. “And because I’m such a good team player,” he touches it to the spot just above your clit, which elicits a sharp whimper from you. His hand covers your mouth and he pulls you against him. In your ear he growls, “I’m going to skip my turn and let you have fun for a little while longer.”
You grind against the toy, passing it again and again over your clit. He’s allowing you to set the pace and you want to touch him, god you want to touch him. You pull against his belt around your wrists and whimper. “Let me out of these,” you pant against his hand. You want to run your fingers through his hair, and scratch your nails along his back. Hotch chuckles and you feel his cock jerk against you. “Not quite yet,” he murmurs, and it’s strained. He’s close too. If he didn’t let you out soon, he’d be cleaning up a mess inside his pants.
You groan as heat pools in your belly. Your aching clit throbs and you increase your pace; grinding against it and Hotch.
“Go ahead, baby,” he entices. “Come for me.”
Your chest heaves, your nipples straining against the clamps which only causes that wave to build even faster. The pressure builds quicker than you can keep up with. You lose the rhythm, but you don’t stop chasing that high. When the wave peaks, Hotch doesn’t pull the vibrator away. Instead, the pressure builds and builds until it has no choice but to release. You ride the vibrator through your orgasm until you collapse completely into his hold around you, your body jerking uncontrollably as the aftershocks pass through your body. The vibrator clicks off and you hear him set it down on the desk with a dull thud.
He drops his hand from your mouth and says nothing for a moment as you take deep breaths.
“Lean forward,” he orders quietly, and you do. His fingers make quick work of the belt around your wrists. Once loose, he drops it on the floor beside you and you bring your arms in front of you. The thick corded muscles that make up his arms thread through yours and he gently palms your breasts. You exhale sharply as he undoes the clamps around your nipples. With the tips of his fingers, he delivers a short series of massaging movements against the tender flesh. Finally, his fingers trail the sides of your face. They hook beneath the lip of the blindfold and gently pull it up and over your eyes.
You blink a few times to allow your eyes to adjust to the dim lamp-lighting and your eyes quickly land on his deep brown gaze. His lids are hooded as he looks at you, no that’s not the word, as he admires you. Your cheeks flush and you lean forward to kiss his lips. They part instantly for you and you slide your tongue into his mouth. You slip your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. He groans into your mouth in response.
“I love the way you taste,” you mumble against his mouth.
You feel his lips smile against yours. “Nowhere near as good as you.”
You drop your hands to his shoulders and let your fingers find their way to the buttons of his dress shirt. You nip at his chest, leaving a purplish-red mark just beside his nipple. Your fingers brush the scars long since healed over from his run-in with Foyet as you explore his chest and abdomen with your hands. You need to feel all of him, to make him feel as good as he makes you feel.
Hotch slips his hands under your ass as you undo the buttons of his tailored slacks. His erection forces the zipper open before you get the chance to unzip it, tenting his boxer briefs.
Eagerly, you hook your fingers into the hem of his Calvin Kleins and pull down. He lifts his hips, with you on top of him, so you can jerk them down. His cock bounces up against his abdomen, pearls of pre-cum beading at the tip of his length. You eye it hungrily, but before you go any further you unhook your legs from around his and shimmy out of your skirt and panties. You unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor, not minding where it lands. When you return to sit on his lap, you slide your legs through each of the arms of his office chair and press your slick cunt against the length of his erection.
His head tips back as a low groan escapes his lips. You press your lips to the hollow of his throat before moving to suckle gently at his collarbone. The benefit of wearing a suit and tie day in and day out means you can mark him as much as you want and no one is the wiser. No one besides him and you that is.
You curve your hand around his cock. Slowly, you begin to pump him in your hand. As you gingerly massage his length, you press your breasts against his chest as you lie flat against him to whisper in his ear, “I think you’re ready to take me now.”
You smile as his eyes screw shut as you have him literally in the palm of your hand. You always love watching the tables turn when you play this game. Hotch nods and grunts out an enthusiastic, “Yes!”
“Very well,” you purr into his ear.
Standing on the tips of your toes, you keep your hand wrapped around his cock and guide him to your entrance. As the blunt tip of his cock slides easily inside of you, you begin to sink down onto the length of him.
You both moan as he fills you, the width of his cock stretching your tight walls.
“God,” you gasp as you dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder blades.
“No baby,” Hotch breathes. “He’s not in this room tonight. It’s just you,” he kisses you once, “and me.”
You roll onto the balls of your feet and push yourself up before sinking back onto your heels. This helps you get used to the feeling of his cock filling and stretching you.
“Find what feels good,” Hotch says. “You set the pace.”
You repeat the motion again, except this time leaning forward just so that his dick strokes against your g-spot with each thrust. From there you begin a steady rhythm, riding him at a pace where you can still manage to kiss one another without breaking your teeth as you get lost in the throes of endorphins and hormones.
Eventually, you feel that familiar pressure begin to build and his fingers squeeze into your hips. He’s nearing his own climax.
“I want you to come with me,” he whispers against your mouth. “I’m close.”
“Help me get there, then,” you tease.
Hotch releases one of your hips and snakes his arm around your waist. His fingers find your clit without guidance and he begins teasing the tight bundle of nerves. For a split second, you lose the rhythm, but he helps you get it back by pumping his hips up to stroke that spot inside. The dual sensation is almost too much to bear, but as he begins to slam his cock up and into you, you know it won’t be very long now. You clutch at his shoulder blades, and he hisses as you dig your nails in deeper.
“Come for me, Hotch,” you plead. As your orgasm builds, you feel his breathing become erratic. “Aaron, I know you want to come in me.” You know using his first name drives him wild.
He grunts and drops his hand back to your hip, his grip bruising as he slams you down onto his cock. Each thrust strikes your g-spot and as his entire being locks up and his orgasm rattles through his body and pulses into you, your release follows almost immediately after.
You stay like that for a minute or two, a tangle of limbs. His arms wrap around your back, his palms flat against your slightly damp skin. He kisses your cheek once and helps lift you off his cock. You groan as he leaves you, and slickness from your combined arousal drips down your thighs.
Completely spent, he carefully stands, ensuring your legs don’t get stuck beneath the arms of his desk chair. Your legs feel like jelly, shaking and trembling as he lets go of you. He fastens the buttons on his slacks and tugs his dress shirt on, buttoning it haphazardly. A tired laugh escapes you as he scoops you into his arms and carries you to the leather sofa against the far wall of his office. He gently places you down and tucks his suit jacket over your shoulders. He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ll be right back.”
He ducks out of the room, careful to use his key and lock the door from the outside as he does so.
Your eyelids are heavy, and it takes everything in you not to tuck into the corner of the sofa and fall asleep right then and there. However, you don’t think the weekend cleaning crew would ever recover if they opened his office in the morning and saw you in this state.
The sound of his key in the lock brings you back to reality. You tug Hotch’s jacket tighter around you as the AC chills your sweat-dampened skin. He smiles at you as he enters the office. Hands full, he quietly shuts the door with his foot before approaching you.
He drops your go-bag by your feet and places two bottles of water on the table in front of you. He retrieves his own bag from beside his desk.
“I figured you’d want a change of clothes,” he says as he sits next to you on the couch.
“Astute observation,” you reply cheekily, though there’s a tiredness to your voice now.
He smirks in turn, “Come here.” He slips an arm around the small of your back, places his palm flat against your hip, and easily scoops you into his lap. He pulls his go bag onto the couch and unzips it. After rummaging for a few moments, he pulls out a small container of wipes, a washcloth, and a small container of something you can’t quite make out.
The lid on the container of wipes clicks open. He brushes your hair over your shoulder and begins to wipe down the back of your neck, your shoulders, and back; clearing the sweat away. He does the same to your chest, your breasts, and thighs. The wipe is cool against your skin and a chill runs down your spine.
He slides out from behind you, getting on his knees before you. He presses soft kisses to your inner thigh before using a fresh wipe to clean you up. “I’m sorry I don’t have something more formal,” he says with a soft smile. “You can take a proper shower at my apartment.”
You arch an eyebrow at that. “I’m coming home with you, now?”
He tilts his head. “Only if you want to.” He unzips your bag and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants, the ones you take on every trip. He guides your feet through each leg and you reach to pull them up the rest of the way. He kisses the corner of your mouth as you bend down and his suit jacket falls aside revealing the marks he’d left on your breasts.
He sits and pulls you between his legs once more. This time he screws open the container he’d left sitting on the sofa. He scoops a small amount of the gel onto his fingers and rubs them together. “Lie back against me,” he says gently and he doesn’t have to say it twice. You roll back into the wide plane of his chest and let your head loll to the side. Your eyelids feel so heavy and you’d love to just curl up in his lap and fall asleep just like that. When the gel hits the sensitive skin of your nipples, you gasp.
“Shh,” he soothes as he rubs the gel onto your sore nipples. The movement is not sexual, but methodical, therapeutic even. There’s a cooling component to the gel and relief courses through the sensitive skin there.
He caps the jar, wipes his fingers on the washcloth, and pulls his hoodie out of your go bag. The letters ‘FBI’ were barely legible after how many dozens of washes it’d been through. The front pocket was barely hanging on and there was a hole in one armpit, but somehow the old thing held together. Hotch had considered his hoodie from the academy a good luck charm of sorts. He’d kept it with him his entire career with the Bureau, but when you first started seeing one another and you’d borrowed it after a night at his house, there was never any doubt that you should have it. He didn’t need it anymore, not with you around. He’d have all the luck he ever needed so long as you were there with him.
“What are you smiling at?” you ask as you let him help you out of his suit jacket and tug on the faded hoodie.
He passes you a bottle of water before he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck. You place the bottle on the couch beside him and lay your head against his and squeeze his forearm with your hands. “Just how lucky I am,” he answers.
You close your eyes and lean into his hold, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours.
He sits up suddenly, jostling you. “I meant to ask, did you want an ice pack? I think I might’ve held onto your hips a bit too hard there at the end.”
You arch an eyebrow and turn in his lap to loop your arms around his neck. You smile before kissing the downward slope of his nose. “My hips are fine, especially when they’re in your hands.
His thumb strokes your hip in response as he looks down at you from beneath his dark lashes. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
You nod. “Do you think if we order a pizza from the car, it’ll get there before us?”
Hotch smiles and helps you to your feet. He quickly gathers the things from your ‘lesson’ into the lockbox and tucks them into his go bag. He gathers your discarded clothes from around his office and tucks them into your bag. After he passes you the water bottle you’d discarded, he shoulders yours and his go bags. You’ll do laundry at his place over the weekend and repack it for the upcoming week.
He stretches an empty hand towards you, “Ready to go?”
You intertwine your fingers with his and squeeze. With the hand holding yours, he pulls you against his tall frame, the movement quick and unexpected. He captures your lips in a deep, final kiss. His arm is secure around the small of your back and you lean against it, gaze locked on his as you do so.
“Hey,” you breathe as you catch your breath. “Hotch?”
“Aaron,” he corrects with an arc of his dark brow.
“Aaron,” you repeat, drawing out his name, smiling as you see his own smile widen after using his first name.
His eyes search yours, and you let yours drop to his lips. “I’m still not sure I’ve learned my lesson.” You look up at him from beneath your lashes and bat them two, three times.
He kisses you again, both sets of your lips smiling as you fail to make it to the door. He pulls away with a breathless laugh, steps towards, and unlocks the door. As he opens it with his free hand he smiles at you, “Good thing your boss gave the team the weekend off.”
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glitterp0prhaps0dy · 10 hours
Text
HeartBreak part 3
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Her hair, a cascade of red-pink, was usually styled upwards, meticulously arranged to maintain her sophisticated image. Yet, in my eyes, its true beauty was revealed when it fell freely, untamed, and wild from resting in our bed or became tousled as I wove my fingers through it, losing myself in its texture.
Her skin sparkled like a constellation of stars, glittering so that whenever sunlight kissed her, she radiated like the brightest beacon in my world. She was my guiding light, the star that led me through the darkest nights. But now, with her absence, shadows have crept into my life, turning my once-illuminated world into an endless night.
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BEEP... BEEP... BEEP…
John Dory's eyes snapped open, an unwelcome greeting from the relentless alarm bug. In a futile attempt to ward off the remnants of sleep, he held his eyelids open with his fingers. But the alarm bug's piercing cry was impossible to ignore. With a quick poke, he silenced its din, bringing a momentary peace to the early morning.
That's when a familiar scent caught his attention, pulling him further from the grasp of sleep. Food was being prepared in his own home. Curious, he slid the curtain aside on his loft to discover the source. Below stood a troll with skin that transitioned from blue to a crystalline texture on his arms and legs. His hair, a unique blend of pink with white roots, was unmistakable. Leaning on a cane, it was Floyd, busy in the kitchen.
John's confusion quickly bubbled to the surface. Why was Floyd still here? And more puzzling, why was he cooking, especially the breakfast dish that held so many memories of their grandmother? It was a recipe steeped in tradition, one that always brought back a flood of nostalgic warmth.
John made his way down the ladder, his movements heavy with sleep. He stumbled toward his brother, his voice tinged with surprise and grogginess, "Floyd?... What are you still... doing here?" he asked, his curiosity evident.
The mentioned troll turned to face John, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Hey JD, how are you feeling?" he inquired, his voice soft yet laden with concern. It was clear from the look on Floyd's face that his worry for John was genuine.
Floyd gently ushered John Dory to the couch, taking a moment to bring over the freshly prepared food. Once he settled down next to John, Floyd turned towards him, navigating the delicate subject with care. "I guess, the conversation back at the bunker... it made you remember her?" His voice was cautious, treading lightly around the edges of a potentially painful memory.
"...yeah." John's response was soft, his gaze fixed on the warm meal before him, avoiding Floyd's eyes. The simplicity of his answer belied the turmoil beneath, hinting at the deep currents of reminiscence and sorrow stirred by the mention of her name.
Floyd's gaze was steady and full of compassion as he continued, "I know it's kind of your thing to keep everything bottled up, to act like everything's okay, to pretend you're alright. But last night... last night I saw you in a way I never have before. You were breaking down, sobbing so hard you eventually passed out. John, I might not know everything that went down between you and the woman in the photo, but I do know holding all that pain inside isn't good for you." Floyd's voice was sincere, each word imbued with concern as he stared intently at John Dory.
John, in turn, couldn't help but feel the weight of Floyd's words. He sulked, a deep, heavy sadness settling over him as he finally met Floyd's gaze. His eyes, usually so good at hiding his feelings, now laid bare the depth of his pain. It was as if Floyd's understanding and concern had breached the walls John had meticulously built around his heart. He looked at Floyd, his expression a mix of gratitude and sorrow, acknowledging the rare moment of vulnerability between them. The lump in his throat made it hard to speak, to express how much it meant to have someone who cared enough to confront him, to offer a shoulder in his darkest times.
Amidst the swell of emotions stirred by Floyd's heartfelt words, John found himself teetering on the edge of opening up further, tempted by the idea of sharing his burden. Yet, the familiar instinct to retreat inward, to shield his deepest wounds from even those who cared for him most, prevailed. He mustered a small, unconvincing smile, the kind he had perfected over the years, and met Floyd's concerned gaze with a semblance of reassurance.
"I'm fine, really, I am," John said, his voice a carefully modulated blend of gratitude and dismissal. Despite the genuine concern reflected in Floyd's eyes, John couldn't shake off the deeply ingrained habit of concealing his pain. The gratitude he felt for Floyd's attempt to reach out, to understand and support him, was real, yet it danced on the surface of his resolve to keep his true feelings locked away. In that moment, John Dory reaffirmed his silent vow to himself, choosing once more to shoulder his pain in solitude, even in the face of Floyd's unwavering brotherly love.
Floyd let out a sigh, a tangible sign of his resignation to the situation, as he continued to eat the breakfast he'd prepared. His glances toward John carried a mixture of sadness and concern, a silent dialogue of worry and love that went unspoken. After they finished their meal, a heavy silence fell between them, only broken by the sound of Floyd's cane as he prepared to leave. "I'm... going to go back to the bunker. See you later, John..."
As he walked towards the door, each step seemed to weigh heavily, marked by a reluctance to leave his brother in such a state. Opening the door, Floyd paused and turned back to John, his expression earnest. "Please, think about what I've said," he implored, leaving those final words hanging in the air as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.
John was left enveloped in the silence of the room, Floyd's plea echoing in his mind. Alone with his thoughts, the weight of their conversation lingered, a reminder of the concern that Floyd had voiced so openly. It was a rare moment of connection, now fading into the quiet of the morning, leaving John to ponder the path forward, alone with his memories and the unspoken promise of support from his brother, should he ever choose to accept it.
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Her laughter, a melody that once filled the air, is now a memory that haunts the silence of my home. She was so small, yet her presence was immense, filling every corner with light and warmth. Her hair, a vibrant shade of dark teal reminiscent of my own, carried the promise of youth and a future untold. It would dance in the breeze as she toddled around, exploring her world with wide-eyed wonder.
Her skin, a mirror of her mother's, sparkled with the same golden shimmer, making her seem like a little sprite, born from the stars. In the sunlight, she was mesmerizing, a tiny beacon of joy and innocence. She was the continuation of a love so profound, a bridge between the past and a future we dreamed of.
But now, in her absence, my world has dimmed, the sparkle has faded, and the melody of her laughter is just an echo in a silent room. She was the light of my life, a brief, beautiful star that burned too brightly to last. With her gone, I'm navigating an endless night, yearning for the dawn that I know will never break
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Text
Come home to me - part 1
This is my first John Egan fic. It's a bit of an unusual take but please bear with me. I kind of know where this is going but I need to see where my John Egan infected brain is leading me!!
John Egan x OC Female!Reader Summary: When the idea of a past life isn't just an idea or something that is only for dreams. Warnings: mentions of injury, blood, possible military inaccuracies (but I am a geek, so I've tried to do my research!)
Please let me know what you think, either in the comments or if you would prefer, shoot me a message.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lizzy had been haunted by nightmares from the past, reliving the harrowing experiences of flying during the war. These nightmares had been intensifying lately, becoming increasingly vivid and distressing.
“Red flare. I see a red flare. Get the ambulances ready!”
“Lizzy! Wake up!” Sarah's urgent voice jolted Lizzy from her torment.
“How many came back?” Lizzy's voice trembled as she regained consciousness, her eyes searching for reassurance.
“Sarah?” Lizzy blinked, disoriented, as she scanned the room. Her best friend and flatmate, Sarah, was perched on the edge of the bed, concern etched across her face.
“You were dreaming again! What happened this time?” Sarah's voice was gentle, yet filled with concern.
“There was another mission, another run and we lost…” Lizzy's voice trailed off, haunted by the memories of loss and tragedy. “I don’t know what’s happening to me! These dreams… they feel so real. It's like... when I sleep, I'm transported back to those moments. But now, being awake... I feel lost.”
Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, Lizzy headed for the bathroom, her mind still reeling from the lingering echoes of her nightmares. “Am I crazy?” She asked, her voice tinged with desperation.
Leaning against the door frame, Sarah tried to offer comfort through the closed door. “Are you crazy? No. These are just dreams. Look, I’ve been doing some reading - you know, to see if I can help. There are stories of young children, even as young as 3 or 4 years old, who have vivid memories of events they shouldn't remember. Like planes crashing and finding fallen soldiers. Perhaps your dreams are something similar.”
“But this feels different, Sarah. They’re not just dreams, they feel like memories... I feel like I know those people. I remember the roar of the planes, the mix of love and fear for them. I feel like I'm losing my mind.  Please tell me I’m not” Lizzy's voice wavered with uncertainty, her eyes pleading for understanding.
Sarah couldn’t bear to see her friend in such distress. “I’ll tell you what, let’s go.”
Lizzy yanked open the bathroom door, toothbrush hanging from her mouth, staring at Sarah as though she had suggested something absurd.
“What?”
“Let’s go. Let’s get in the car and go wherever you feel drawn to. I'm not saying you're crazy, but if it helps you cope, we'll go.” Lizzy's embrace was tight, grateful for even the smallest gesture of acceptance from her friend. She might not find all the answers, but at least Sarah was willing to try. 
As Lizzy stared at herself in the mirror, toothbrush in hand, she couldn't help but notice a faint scar in her hairline. Its presence seemed to defy explanation, appearing suddenly in the same spot she had dreamt of being injured. Closing her eyes, she was transported back to the aftermath of another intense bombing run. The memories flooded her senses, overwhelming her with vivid recollections.
The acrid scent of aviation fuel filled her nostrils as she sat on the tarmac, the chaos of the scene unfolding around her. The cacophony of voices, the urgent shouts for medical assistance, all merged into a disorienting symphony of noise. Trembling with adrenaline and pain, she clutched an untouched cigarette in her fingers, her shoulder and head throbbing from the injuries sustained. In that moment, she felt disconnected from reality, a bystander in her own body as she was ushered into a waiting ambulance and whisked away to the infirmary.
Lizzy could hear his footsteps before he came rushing through the double doors. His voice cut through the chaos of the infirmary. 
"Lizzy!" Concern etched across his features as John hurried to her side, disregarding the calls of the on-duty Matron. Reaching her bed, he exhaled in relief at the sight of her safe and conscious.
"You scared the shit out of me!" John's concern melted into teasing as he observed Lizzy, still in her white tank top with her flight suit folded at her hips. She chuckled, a mix of amusement and discomfort, as the nurse tended to her shoulder.
"Have to keep you on your toes, Major. Can't make things easy for you!" Lizzy retorted, her tone playful despite the pain. However, John's expression grew serious as he gently grasped her hand. "You weren't supposed to be up there. DeMarco should have been on that mission, not you," he murmured, his voice tinged with concern.
She flinched as the nurse finished the sutures. Collecting her equipment, she coughed quietly to get their attention. "You have 10 minutes Lizzy and then the Matron is going to come looking for the Major." Giving her thanks, the nurse drew the curtain, leaving her alone with John.
He gently brushed stray hair away from her face, his touch comforting as he cleaned away the blood. Lizzy winced when he caught the graze in her hairline.
“Benny is still recovering from the last run and I’m just as good of a pilot as any of you boys. So, I spoke to Chick and he said yes.” Lizzy’s words carried a hint of defiance, tempered by the vulnerability in her eyes. John held her face with both his hands, looking into her blue eyes, committing every freckle and now scar to memory. 
“You mean you told Chick you were flying and left before he could say no.” John whispered, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.   
"I would never presume to tell a senior officer what to do!" Lizzy feigned innocence, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. 
“Is that so, Lieutenant?" John whispered with a sly grin. "Well, I know for a fact you're not shy about giving orders to senior officers. If memory serves me right, you were quite commanding the other weekend, telling me to do all sorts of things..." Lizzy pressed a finger to his lips, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes, as she stifled his words. A soft chuckle escaped John's lips as he noticed the delicate pink blush spreading across her cheeks. John’s mischievous tone faltered, replaced by a sombre frown as he voiced his fears. 
“Liz, I can’t… I can’t lose you.  I won’t get through this if you…” Lizzy placed a finger back against his lips and gently hushed him. “I’m alright John. I’m here, I came back, just like I promised.”
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inoxske · 2 years
Text
kirishima, running up to aizawa: Hypothetically-
aizawa: just tell me what you did
kirishima: the dorm is flooding and denki has to sneeze
aizawa, standing quickly: JESUS-
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sergle · 15 days
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AROUND (time): 30 minute window before and 30 after. BEFORE (time): the specified time is the absolute cutoff, bordering on late, so arrive somewhere in the hour before. AT (time): be punctual and be there or be square at the time. BY (time): something STARTS at the time specified and arriving at the exact time does not count as late. This is my take. I am not taking criticism at this time.
no dude bc I think you lowkey nailed it
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phrynewrites · 2 years
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a concept: after the musical week where they land in the middle jasmine makes a deal with bosco that if they’re top performers the next week then bosco can be as much of a menace as they want (and jasmine not so subtly saying maybe this time she’ll give in)
Oh Jasmine absolutely makes this kind of deal and fully thinks she’s shaking hands with the devil (and getting her knuckles kissed by the devil which is a whole new memory) when later during breaks, she sees Bosco over there with their notebook, frantically scribbling as though they’ll lose the thought if they don’t immediately get it written down.
Jasmine’s joking that Bosco sure has a bunch of pent up menace thoughts, before getting back to the most serious little western dance you ever did see
#fun fact the little black book is all of the memories they’re having that have flooded back to them#and they’re not actually writing a list of pent up sex stuff like jasmine thinks#they’re writing down all these soft gentle memories that are coming back to them#and when jasmine figures this out next week when they do end up on top and she’s like well well well#if that’s what’ll motivate you babycakes#how about you meet me at 9? my apartment? give me some time to stretch so I can still walk in the morning#and Bosco’s like how about we get dinner instead?#like turns out they’re all soft because while practicing they just had all these soft little memories#because they are from Montana and all of these western dance rehearsals were not only bringing them back to their childhood#but also back to another past life in which they were clearly the farm hand in love with the farmer’s pretty daughter#and you can see where this is going#jasmine actually finds it quite sweet that Bosco is giving up their menace opportunities to divulge about these softer memories#and also their childhood and their horses and their home#ofc before giving into a few menace tendencies followed by some bits of softness of course of course#but like the paps catch them out at dinner holding hands across the table and really neither of them care to comment on the speculation#lest it ruin the moment together you know?#jasmine lets Bosco keep their menace card for later though fjdkfkf#asks answered#for anon#jasco past life au
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rexscanonwife · 2 years
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Howdy Brie!!! I'd love if you introduced me to your s/i and also to Boba!! Idk anything about either really so feel free to use this as an opportunity to ramble/info dump✨❤️!!!!
Clover @tex-treasures
Hellooo Clover! Thank you so much for the ask, I hope you're doing well today!! ♡ It would be my pleasure, hehe!
Well, this is one of the rare instances where the s/i I'm using has a different name from me, that being Vega Torren, and a slightly different personality from mine/the one I use for The Clone Wars! She was born and raised on Tatooine, the desert planet that both Anakin and Luke Skywalker are from. She lived with her father who was secretly an ex-Jedi who was dispelled from the Order long before it was destroyed, before he's killed by some ruffians and she's sold into slavery at about age 13. Around 16 years of age she escapes and seeks shelter in a cantina where her captors catch up with her to try and take her back, and she kills one of them in the altercation with a weapon of her own design while the other is shot dead by a bounty hunter employed by Jabba the Hutt who just happened to be there at the time. A Twi'lek named Oberon, he sees potential in her and decides to convince Jabba to buy her freedom so he can continue to train her in combat and teach her the trade and he becomes sort of a surrogate father figure to her! She's a touch sardonic, clever, and slightly more jaded than I am, trying to keep her emotions close to her chest so they don't distract her from her work, but her compassion tends to shine through even when it doesn't benefit her! Basically she has soft spots, and they're easy to exploit once you know them so she tries to keep them secret.
Boba Fett is a pure genetic copy of Jango Fett, the man that all clones in The Clone Wars are made from yes even Rex I have a type don't @ me. He was meant to be Jango's son, with no tampering with his genetic makeup, no accelerated growth and nothing to make him less aggressive/more obedient like the other clones. While not everyone in the SW universe sees it this way, he truly feels that Jango was his father and it's clear that they loved each other very much, which sucks because he watches his father get killed by the Jedi at age 10 (specifically Mace Windu, fuck that guy!) and from there starts his tumultuous life of bounty hunting. If I'm being perfectly honest I didn't...really care about him all that much for a while. x'3 In the movies Empire Strikes Back and Return of The Jedi he's...around. He doesn't necessarily say or do much other than stand around and look cool, and take Han to Jabba, and he actually does show up in the Clone Wars tv show a couple of times! He didn't leave the biggest impression on me really until his appearance in The Mandalorian and his show The Book of Boba Fett that I actually started really liking him! Really really liking him apparently...>//>
It's more complicated stuff that I could probably go on for hours about, but the short version would be it's about him being left for dead in the desert, being taken in by Tusken raiders, and eventually how he takes over the seedy underbelly of Tatooine and becomes the new crime lord, or Daimyo (hence my ship tag hehe). Vega and Boba had a few flings here and there pre-Empire Strikes Back and were secretly very important to each other, but kinda kept each other at arm's length back then because of their lifestyles. In the 'Book of' era, they'd finally start breaking down their walls a bit, especially since Boba is in search of something a little more solid than the life of a bounty hunter, so he'd try to finally start properly courting her!
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sanguineterrain · 6 months
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how about Jason with the prompt "text me when you get home"? the one time they forget/fall asleep before sending the text and Jay loses hid mind. rushes over expecting them to be dead but they passed out on the couch as soon as they got home
really superbly SCRUMPTIOUS prompt Aud. I love protective jaybird 🥰‼️ thanks for sending something in 🫶
jason todd x gn!reader. worried protective snuggly jason. no warnings really, ya boy is just paranoid and madly in love with you 💓
request something! I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary
****
As soon as you get out of your last class of the day, your phone rings.
You answer it, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder as you fish in your bag for a couple of bills. You're already walking to the train station.
"Hi, snookie bear," you say into the phone, slightly delirious with hunger and sleep deprivation.
Jason snorts on the other end. "That's a new one. Hey, baby. Y'heading home?"
"Indeed I am."
"Need a ride?"
You wait and listen. Eventually, you hear the sounds of hitting and grunting in the background. You roll your eyes—only Jason would be in the middle of a fight and then ask if you need a ride home.
"No, I'm okay. It's not dark yet. Plus you sound busy."
"I'm never too busy for you," he says immediately. "And it's gonna get dark in an hour. Are you sure—"
"Yes, Jay," you say gently. "I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I'm going straight home."
You're already at the station. There's a good amount of people, students and workers alike. The university is in a relatively okay part of town, especially during the day. You're not worried. It's not like you traipse through Crime Alley on your downtime.
"Okay." Jason takes a deep breath. "Just—just be careful. Text me when you get home."
You note the hint of worry in his tone. Maybe this week has been particularly saturated with crime. Jason tends to get a little overbearing about your safety when he's had a tough week. You know he had go down to Blüdhaven and help his brother—with what specifically, you don't know.
Most of the time, you're sure you don't want to know.
"I always do," you say. The train pulls up to the station. "Ooh, train's here! I'll talk to you later. I'm thinking of ordering takeout. Too tired to cook."
"Okay, sweetheart. Be safe. Love you. Lock your door."
You roll your eyes fondly. "Yes, Jay. Love you too. Bye."
You hang up as you step onto the train. You pull your headphones out of your bag and shut your brain off during the ride. By the time you get off the train, you've lost hope that you'll be doing any work tonight. You're absolutely wiped out after three back-to-back classes.
It's still light when you get home. You lock the door after you get in, the habit ingrained into you, and dump your bag onto the couch.
Takeout is a no-go. You're hungry now and about thirty seconds away from passing out on the couch.
You change into your home clothes, eat a granola bar, and call it a day. You'll eat more later.
You turn off your phone to bar any annoying notifications and fall into bed, eyes closing immediately.
****
The sound of your deadbolt being teared off its chain wakes you up. You flinch and jump awake, trying to blink through sleep. Your mouth is dry from how hard you slept, and your eyesight is slightly blurry from the sudden flood of moisture.
Your bedroom door swings open, and suddenly you're pulled into warm, heavily muscled arms. You hug back on instinct; you'd know the feel of your boyfriend anywhere.
"Jay, h—"
"You didn't text," he says, voice shaking. "You said you would. I was—I thought you were—"
You tense, guilt knocking into you.
"Shit. Jason, I'm so sorry. I meant to, I was just so tired..."
Jason pulls back to look at you, hands still on your shoulders. His expression is stern.
"I'm gonna pick you up from now on. When are your late days?"
"Jay, no, GCU is across town. You can't possibly pick me up three days a week. That's too much! What about patrol?"
"Somebody else is out at this time," he says stonily. "Crime Alley can wait an hour while I get you home."
His eyes blaze green, a side effect of the Pit. You can tell he's putting every effort into keeping a lid on the worry and fear and anger over your silence.
"Jason." You cup his face. "Honey, I'm safe. I'm sorry I didn't text you. I'm sorry I worried you. But your adrenaline is spiked right now, Jay. Everything feels magnified. I don't need to be picked up. I was perfectly safe coming home. Okay?"
He shakes his head, holding your wrists. "Anything could've happened. I was so—fuck, baby, I was so scared. I-I checked the station footage and the traffic cams, and I didn't see you after you cut through the park, and I thought—I was sure you'd—"
Jason pulls your arms around his neck and buries his face into your shoulder. He supports you by the backs of your thighs, tugging you into his lap. Then he clings tight.
"Oh, Jay," you murmur, petting his curls. "I'm alright. This end of Gotham isn't so bad. And I know you'd have found me even if something had happened. But nothing did."
"Can't lose you," he chokes out.
"You won't lose me, honey," you say. "You keep me safe."
He trembles in your embrace. You kiss the shell of his ear and continue to pet his hair.
"Let me pick you up tomorrow, at least," he pleads. "We'll get dumplings at that place you like. You barely ate anything when you came home."
"Okay, Jay," you say, because you know he needs that reassurance. He won't relax without it. "That sounds good."
You keep stroking his hair. "Y'wanna order in now?"
"In a minute."
Jason lays you both down on the bed. He throws a leg over yours and pulls you into his chest. It's now that you see just how much tension is locked in his shoulders. He's exhausted.
"Jus' wanna hold you for a bit," he says, lips resting on your shoulder.
He's drowsy, the adrenaline finally ebbing. You close your eyes and snuggle into his arms.
"You can hold me for as long as you want," you say, threading your fingers with his. "I'm not going anywhere."
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darkromanceenthusiast · 5 months
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Okay so I was gonna ask about a MM fic but I saw you do werewolves….
Maybe a witch is doing a ritual under the full moon in the forest? Maybe it feels so good that the werewolf just needs to keep fucking you…
I’m an extremely shy person and have no idea on how to request but I just have a BIG thing for werewolves so pretty please
Absolutely!
M!werewolf x human!witch!reader
Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, reader is AFAB, Cunnilingus, degradation and praise, breeding kink, reader is very okay with it, but still dub/non-con, cursing, kidnapping, not proof read
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This was not, how you were expecting this night to go, face down ass up in the dirt as the panting werewolf man above you tried his best to move your restrictive clothing, one large hairy paw-hand keeping you still. The full moon was high above you and you could see your crystals and herbs for your ritual spilled before you.
“You’re practically begging for it, you know? Pretty little thing like you coming into the woods as if you’re not going to get fucked.” The werewolf says, your attention snapping back to him, he must have had enough of the struggle game because he finally ripped everything from the waist down off, you feel a rush of cold air and shiver, feeling your nipples harden a bit as your blood rushes through your veins in a perverse mix of fear and arousal, the smell making him groan as he nudges his face forward, taking a deep whiff of your cunt and letting out a growl that went straight to your core. You’re not…. Into this… are you? No absolutely not! You’re just frustrated… it’s just been a while since-
A gasp is pulled from your lips as you feel his warm, rough tongue lap at your folds, you can feel the small puffs of hot air coming from his nose as he laps at you, a few whines escaping him.
“You just keep getting wetter and wetter, do you like this, having your gorgeous pussy eaten by me?” He asked tauntingly, he knew you wouldn’t answer but he didn’t care, you didn’t know it yet but you would he his mate, his pretty little witch. He gives another long lap before finally plunging his tongue in your hole, swirling around and making you moan softly, embarrassment flooding you, his tongue was bigger and thicker than any human man’s tongue after a while he pulls back from your cunt with a squelch and gives a deep chuckle as he grabs your hips tighter and forces you on your back so you’re looking up at him, he smiles down at you, sharp canines glistening in his half wolf-half man form.
“Fuckin hell, princess, I can’t wait to give you my knot… I bet you’ll take it so well, huh?” He growls and you nod slowly, he raises an eyebrow before he leans down, licking your neck softly as he inhaled your scent before finally ripping your top off, he wastes no time running his tongue all over your nipples, letting out soft pants and whines as he did, it wasn’t long until you felt his cock poking at your entrance before he ran it through your folds a few times, growling as he did,
“Fuck I’m not even inside ya yet and you feel amazing.” He huffs out, your face flooding red as he spits on his cock and pushes the tip to your entrance, you can feel his large, hairy paw like hands pressing right above your womb as he enters you, the sensation of being filled and the pressure causing your breath to hitch a bit, he moved his thumb down and made lazy circles on your clit, mumbling curses and praise under his breath. You could feel his dick twitching and throbbing inside you, begging for some friction. You gave your hips a small roll and he snapped, growling as his hand flew to your throat, pining you as his other hand lifted your hips and began to pound you.
“I was gonna be gentle… but if you want to act like a whore I’ll fuck you like one.” He says but you don’t entirely hear him you’re too focused on the feelings. Him filling you, cock pressing against your cervix with every thrust, his thumb tracing your clit, and his hand wrapped firmly around your throat making everything feel more intense. Finally he pulls his hand off your throat, air flooding your lungs as you cough and sputter a bit making him laugh, you feel a dizzy rush and stare at the spinning wolf man above you, feeling a familiar tug building in your stomach. You’re so close already, he’s filling you in ways you didn’t think could happen.
“God fucking damnit,” he says as his claws dig into your hips a bit, “You feel so good… look at you taking me so well.” He says, gripping the back of your thighs and pushing them back, giving you the perfect view of his cock stretching you out, you can already see it beginning to swell at the base and you bite your lip, he rubs your clit a bit faster and the tension finally snaps, your orgasm running through your body as he continued to pound you, you hear him growl as you tighten around him, after a few seconds you feel his knot pressing against you.
“C’mon… take my knot, little witch, take my pups.” He growls into your ear, still pounding your sensitive and overworked cunt, you felt your eyes roll back as his knot popped in, stretching you impossibly full before he finally gave one last thrust, filling you with his first load of the night.
“Fuck, fuck yes, little mate… you did so good… such a good girl.” He says, his tongue lapping at your back as he wraps his arms around you.
“We’ll be stuck with you on my cock for a bit, pretty girl.” He says, standing up as he used his hands under your ass to keep you balanced and close to him, now that he quite literally had you trapped on his cock you couldn’t run as he took you to a small cabin, you doubt you’d be let to leave anytime soon though.
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adanfore · 5 months
Text
Something about virgin Choso fucks me up in the head oh my god.
He acts tough. Every time he’s around you, talking to Yuuji, his brothers, he puts on a show as though nothing in the world matters, he’s always calm, layed back. Talking to him, you always got so nervous when he stared you down every time without a care in the world it seems, to you it looked like talking to anyone for him was easy as a breeze of wind, you kind of wished you were like that, like Choso. That also was half of why you were attracted to the man. The other half, well, self explanatory: he was great with his brothers, he was attractive in his own damn way which made your knees weak every time you saw him.
You hadn’t expected him to be a virgin, and a whiney one at that. When you had walked past the bathroom to the kitchen, you heard him in
the bathroom, he was masturbating.. Were you eavesdropping? Yes, but you couldn’t hold yourself from listening in to his beautiful cries of pleasure, whimpering, pleading for some reason, those pretty moans and whines turned you on more than you imagined. Well, the worst part came when you had not realized he was done already, you only realized when he opened the door and stood there, shocked, embarrassement flood over you and you just ran back to the guest bedroom.
If it only wasn’t for you getting carried away, this wouldn’t be happening right now, you and Choso sitting on the sofa, akwardly waiting for Yuuji to come back from the kitchen so the atmosphere turns nice again. You can feel Choso sneaking glances at you, fidgeting with the black silver rings on his fingers. Not wanting to have this continue for any longer, you decided you’d speak up.
“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday, I just.. uh..”
You couldnt find a explanation for yourself.
“N-No, It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have.. Uhm, I shouldn’t have done it in the bathroom.”
“But I was eavesdropping on you, I need to apologize for that. I just couldn’t help but get carried away from… Shock!”
And as Choso was about to answer, Yuuji suddenly came into the room, having only heard muffles of your conversation.
“Yo, what’re you guys talking about?”
With a panic, you blurt whatever comes to mind.
“ Oh! I was just telling Choso that I’ll be helping him later.”
“Helping him with what?”
“Just washing the dishes, just to repay him for yesterday, I hit him after he scared me in the dark at night!
Yuuji seems content with that answer, and sits between you two. You couldn’t help but notice how Choso looked at you after you said you’ll help him later, eyes a little wide, a deep red spreading on his cheeks. He didn’t know whether to take it seriously or not, well, you were just making an excuse, but still, a gesture like that would blow his mind completely.
After the movie marathon, you both HAD to go wash the dishes, to play some truth into your silly excuse you gave to Yuuji, it was akward, very akward washing dishes with him. But you got to see Choso, the real him, how he was all fidgety, getting clumsy and blushing as hard as a cherry.
“Was it true..? What you said earlier?”
“What are you talking about, Choso?”
“H-How you said you’d help me later..”
“I am helping you thoug- Oh, you mean that?”
You said as the realization hit you, he was hard, and it was all because of your choice of words.
“I-I’m sorry, I am just gonna go, real sorry for thi-“
“N-No, Choso! I- I can help you, if you want me to?”
The sigh Choso gave out was huge.
“Please…”
That was all you needed to hear, proceeding to drag him up to his room at the back of the hall, the location of his room, being secluded and far away from any other room made you so grateful.
You sat him on the edge of his bed, leaning down to massage his thighs.
“How do you want me to help you, Choso?”
Hearing his name come out of your pretty lips always made him want to hold back smashing his face into yours, but now, he was just confused, he didn’t know what would be the most ‘appropriate’ thing to ask. All he wanted now, was to ruin you, to make you his, kiss you, feel and touch you everywhere he had ever dreamed of.
“I.. I don’t know, just- just touch me, do whatever, please..”
When you heard that, you immediately knew that he was a virgin, to your shock infact. Not wanting to torture this poor man any longer, you stopped massaging his thighs for a moment and told him to slide his sweatpants down, all the while looking at the wet spot of precum left on them.
You looked at his length for a second, before actually bringing your hand up to it, to rub and feel it to all of its size, he was huge, possibly the biggest you’ve ever had in a partner. It blew your mind and you wondered how it would feel inside you, how it would fill all of your insides, but, right now it was all about Choso’s pleasure which needed to be fixed.
The pool of precum doubled in size as you continued rubbing it, deciding to finally free it from his boxers, Choso moaned when it sprang up and hit his stomach. That made you look up at him, needing to hear more of his sounds, he looked back at you with a pleading look on his face which just said “please, touch me already”
You grabbed his length with your hand and started stroking it, slowly at first, picking up speed with some time. The moans, whines and whimpers this man put out were sent straight to your core.
“Please, Please, please, go faster, please, I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please!”
That motivated you to pick up speed, also to tighten your grip on his length to up the pleasure for him. His moans were getting out of control until you looked up at him with a strict look, telling him to be quiet. With that sense of dominance, he came all over, all over your hand, his stomach and thighs. His chest heaving, some small moans still coming out as he came down from his high.
You brought your hand up to your mouth, licking your hand and tasting Him before you began to walk out of his room, off to finish yourself off.
“W-Wait, can’t I make you feel good now?”
“I did this as an apology, Choso. Some other time, maybe.”
And with a wink and a smirk to him, you walked off to your room with an almost unbarable heat between your legs, it also had to be fixed.
NOT PROOFREAD ITS FUCKING 5 AM I WANNA GO SLEEP, ILL DO IT SOME OTHER TIME
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backwzzds · 4 months
Text
ೃ⁀➷ love me, connie springer (nsfw)
thinking about babydaddy!connie fucking you nice and slow after finding out you got stood up by your date. having little constentina (his idea, but tina for short) for the weekend, your precious angel just couldn’t keep her mouth shut to her daddy when you’d told her you were going on a small ‘dinner’
“she said dinner but that really means date, daddy.”
connie isn’t surprised. no one knew how to handle you beside him. i mean, he’s had your ass in place successfully for nearly ten years; only he was man enough to handle you, your mind, and most of all your body.
you loved connie like no other, you wanted no one else to be the father of your children. but you knew the streets would eventually take him away from you, and you just didn’t wanna stick around for that. not when you had a five year old girl depending on the both of you. connie looked for other ways to make bread without selling or doing anything…illegal but it was hard to match the stacks he was bringing home every weekend.
your separation was a one sided agreement anyways it seems. to you? you two were broken up. to connie delulu ass? you were his wife and you’re ‘smoking dick if you think ion belong to you and you’on belong to me.’
you didn’t even have any words for the absence of your so called ‘date.’. after an hour of waiting, you figured you’d call in to check on tina. ringing connie, your babyfather answered on the first ring, of course with a wood in his mouth and multiple lights on his face, signaling he was watching tv.
“hey,” your voice is solemn and low. you really were tired and ashamed to say anything more.
“hey mama, you okay?” connie’s hazel brown eyes quickly flick over to yours through the screen.
you shrug though he can’t see it. “i’m okay.” you admit. “just callin’ to check on my baby.” the frame was only on your face, but from the small shake of your hand, connie had managed to get a glimpse of a pretty black dress you’d sported, breasts looking three times as big as it usually did because of your sitting position. he could tell you dressed up for the night.
“yeah? she good, just upstairs sleepin’ right now. how was your date, pretty?” you hear connie turn down the tv in the background and give you his full intention.
you furrow your brows. “what? boy, how’d you know about it?”
your baby father blows out a huff of smoke and chuckles, flashing his gold canines. he wasn’t gon snitch on his lil informant princess. “i got my ways. tell me bout it baby.”
with a roll of your eyes, you let out a tired sigh and felt your shoulders sag. “wouldn’t know. the nigga never showed.”
connie furrows his own thick eyebrows. “what you mean? he told you he couldn’t come?” he asked. from the shake of your head, you see his face soften on the screen. “come over n’ smoke with me. lemme make you feel better.”
you kiss your teeth and throw your head back, already knowing where the conversation was headed. embarrassment flooded your expression. “you eating my pussy is not gonna make me feel better, constance.”
connie kissed his teeth and waved you off dismissively. “you’on know that.”
a blush can’t help but creep its way onto your brown cheeks. “i’m supposed to be staying away from you, ya know.”
connie gives you a knowing grin, shamelessly flexing the two deep dimples in his cheeks that constentina inherrited from him. “yeah? how’s that going for you, mama?”
“obviously not good because i’m actually considering your offer of being a booty call tonight?” you laugh.
“come onnn mama, tina’s sleep, i got a wood rolled for you and i want you here.” your ex compromised with a kiss of his teeth. “lemme rub ya feet and all on ya butt i promise you’ll feel better.
“i’m tired and don’t feel like driving, con,” you whine in the same tone. you knew if he didn’t have your daughter he’d already be at your door, but you refused to risk waking her up in a car ride over here.
connie rolls his eyes and puts you on pause for the moment. a minute later he comes back on screen and takes a pull of his backwood. “your uber on the way baby.”
“ooh daddy,” you cried, trying your hardest to breathe straight. “you know i cum fast like this, oh shit,” connie had your legs spread wide open, forcing your huge tits up against the bottom of your face as he pumped in and out of you.
“you like that mama, like when i fuck you nice and slow? all romantic n’ shit?” connie teased. tears streamed down your face and he wasted no time in kissing them from your pretty face.
you’re too far in euphoria to even fully comprehend exactly what he’s saying. “yes, i love when you stroke this pussy so deep daddy.”
connie holds your breasts up damn near to your face and takes his time sucking on each of your nipples, making sure to stretch and pull it all the way back as far as it could go, grinning at the sound of it snapping back toward you. “you’on need no one else to love you like this but me, you heard?”
you can’t help but shake your head, the small responsible part of you left that hadn’t been fucked out by connie yet (though he was close) was slowly bringing you to reality. “no,” you respond.
“nah, nah, dead that shit or imma stop,” your ex threatened, straightening his back out so he stood tall, yet still very deep inside your gummy walls. you can’t help but stare down the tattoos that littered his body; many dedicated to you and your shared daughter. “you grippin’ me so tight baby, boutta make me cum, fuck,” connie throws his head back and whines. “tell me you’re mine n’ we gonna get back together.”
“no, con,” your words were saying one thing, but the cream ring of your arousal forming around connie’s tanned dick was betraying everything leaving your mouth. “w-we’re we’re toxic—oooh, yes, right there right there!”
suddenly, a large pair of hands come to wrap around your neck, gripping lightly. “tell me you’re mine or im not fuckin’ this pussy,” he orders. “you know i don’t be bluffing, mama. ‘specially when it come to your spoiled ass déjame oírte decirlo.”
more tears fall from your eyes as you feel your lower region bubble in evstasy. “con—“
“say it if you wanna cum.” connie’s grip around your neck tightens as he inevitably starts to babble. he was not gonna let up off you no matter what. “come on mama, say it n lemme give you another baby. gonna make you a mama all over again, want you so full of my babies, pretty—fuck,” he breathed out. “you know daddy sorry, you gonna forgive him?”
it wasn’t until connie started to add his thumb rubbing circles around your clit did you finally fold and give in. “oh fuck, yes! yes yes i forgive you con—please—“
“go head and cum mami, te quiero.” connie breathed out, feeling his own orgasm approach. “te amo joder joder por favor dame más hijos mami te estoy rogando déjame correrte dentro de ti,” the man curses into the atmosphere as he strokes himself in you a few more times.
“yes yes,” you nod in response to his pleads of cumming in you. a nanosecond later, connie’s cumming deep into you until he ends up shooting nothing but blanks. you’re full to the brim to the point where drops of his cum couldn’t help but ooze out between your puffy cunt.
“dio mio.”
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mirkoluvs · 7 months
Text
★ SUPER SHY
sanji (opla) x fem reader
genre: angst to comfort !!
notes: request !! this is a bit of a long one… also, yes. the title is inspired by new jeans hehe. also, request have been closed for a bit because my inbox is flooded… i appreciate the support and will open requests again soon once i finish most of them!
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you were sitting as you listened to nami complain about how the crew was running low on money because of luffy’s food needs. you thought about bringing up her clothing addiction, but since you wanted the ship to stay intact, you kept your mouth shut.
“and i always tell him that we have enough to last us in the kitchen, but he never listens! i swear next time he spends money on food without telling me i’ll-“, “nami!”, sanji called out, walking out the kitchen with a tray of drinks. he quickly made his way over to the table that the two of you were at.
“nami, take this. it’ll help you calm down. i know luffy can be stressful”, sanji smiled, handing nami the drink. “why thank you, sanji”, she smiled back, taking the drink from his hand. “hey! what did i do?!”, luffy shouted from the front of the boat where he was watching usopp fish. sanji simply didn’t answer, continuing to smile at nami as he pushed off luffy’s whining.
finally, he turned to you. “for you”, sanji quickly said, handing you your drink and walking off. your eyes narrowed at the short lived interaction. it seemed like he didn’t care about you as much as he did nami. maybe you were overthinking it. but what if you weren’t? had you done something wrong? did you offend him or something?
“y/n?”, nami called out, tapping your shoulder. you jumped at the sudden touch, snapping out of it. “are you okay?”, she asked, a small bit of concern on her face. “yeah, i’m fine. i’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you smiled, quickly dismissing yourself. before she could further question you, you were already gone.
you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, letting out a sigh. looking up, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. walking closer, you began picking at parts of your face.
is there something wrong with me? sure, i’m not as pretty as nami or other girls, but am i that bad that someone like sanji would barely acknowledge me…? he flirts with every woman he can, yet he always ignores me… that says a lot, huh?
before you could even realize it, there were tears streaming down your face. insecurities were swallowing you whole, it was unbearable. you leaned against the door, sliding down it as you tucked your knees against your chest and laid your head on your knees.
“hey, who’s in there? i gotta use the bathroom”, zoro asked, banging on the door. you jumped at his sudden presence. “sorry, i’ll be out soon”, you replied back, your voice unexpectedly quivering. you didn’t hear a response for a moment, the silence making you a bit nervous. “i’ll just wait, it’s fine”, he replied. before you could respond, he walked away. you sighed as you rested your head against the door.
the day passed by quickly as everyone was seated eating the dinner sanji had prepared. “where’s y/n? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked, holding an extra plate. everyone looked around, shrugging. “i haven’t seen her since this afternoon, she might’ve fell asleep early”, nami answered. sanji rose an eyebrow but didn’t choose to question it.
after everyone, or so he thought, had left the kitchen, he started cleaning up what was left. “what the hell are you still doing in here?”, sanji groaned, being faced with the sight of the green-haired swordsman when he turned around. “quit whining, i can go wherever i want”, zoro fought back.
“did you say something to y/n earlier?”, he asked, picking up a random fruit on the counter. sanji rose an eyebrow as he continued scrubbing the dishes, “no? why are you asking me that”, he asked. “well, i saw her leave right after you gave nami and her those drinks. then i went to the bathroom and she was in there. sounded like she was crying or something”, he told him. sanjis eyes widened at what he said, pausing everything he was doing. “she was crying…?”, sanji muttered, turning to look at zoro who was playing catch with a random apple. “yeah, i guess. but if you say you didn’t do anything then maybe it was something else”, he shrugged, placing the apple down and walking out. sanji stayed in the same position he was in for a moment, thinking about what zoro said. he didn’t remember ever offending you, so what could’ve happened? he sighed, finishing up the last bit of the dishes left before closing up the kitchen.
soon enough, everything was packed away and sanji was able to go to sleep. he let out a yawn as he closed the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes. “finally, i’m exhausted- SHIT”, he exclaimed in shock, running into someone. “who the hell- y/n?”, he questioned in surprise. your eyes were wide as you realized who you had run into. you muttered small curses under your breath as you began to back away. “sorry, i’ll get going”, you started, beginning to turn around as you started to walk away. “no, wait”, sanji interfered, grabbing your wrist. your eyes widened at the motion. “were you gonna try to get leftovers?”, he asked. you let out a light laugh, trying to skim over the topic. “what? no! i just- well…”, you stuttered. yeah, you were busted.
“why weren’t you at dinner? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked. his hand was still on your wrist as he looked into your eyes, a small bit of concern being prominent. “wasn’t hungry”, you muttered, looking away from him. he rose an eyebrow at your odd behavior, something was up and he knew it. “you don’t expect me to believe that when i just caught you trying to sneak leftovers, right?”, he asked, cocking his head to the side. “it doesn’t matter, just forget it. im going to bed”, you sighed, trying to pull your hand away from his hold. “tell me what’s wrong, y/n. did something happen? did someone say something?”, he asked, trying to look you in the eyes, something you were dodging.
“where is this concern suddenly coming from?”, you muttered just loud enough so he could hear you. that left him even more confused than before, his eyebrows tightening as he tried to figure out what you meant. the silence finally pushed you to look at him. you wanted to scoff at his confused expression. “you don’t care about me like the others, and you don’t have to pretend to because it’s just us here”, you told him, your voice a bit stern. his eyes widened at your words, shocked and lost. “wait, what? where is this coming from?”, he asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his words. “you always avoid me, sanji, and it hurts. it hurts a lot. you don’t look at me the same way you look at nami and other girls, you always keep our conversations short, hell, sometimes you don’t even look at me when we’re talking. i get it, maybe i’m not pretty like nami, or as entertaining as luffy and usopp, but is that really enough of a reason to hate me?”, you ranted, your voice cracking. once you started, you couldn’t get yourself to stop, it was a never ending pile of word vomit.
once you finished, you sighed, sniffling as you wiped a few tears running down your face. the silence was deafening as you looked at the ground, anxiously waiting for his response. “…is that really what you think?”, he finally muttered, his voice just loud enough so you could hear him. your silence clearly told him what your answer was. “y/n, look at me”, he asked. you remained still, your eyes staring daggers into the ground. he sighed, gently moving your head with two fingers so you’d face him. “listen to me when i say this. i do not hate you. it’s the complete opposite of that, actually. if i knew what i was doing made you feel like this, i would’ve stopped being such a wimp”, he sighed. you rose an eyebrow at his choice of words. “wimp?”, you questioned. “the truth is that i really, really like you. so much that i become a nervous wreck around you. that’s why i kept our conversations so short and never looked you in the eye. cause if i did, i’d probably explode on the spot. but to think that because i was such a coward that i had you feeling like this, had you skipping a meal all because i was nervous. i’m such an asshole”, he spoke, his regret being notable in his tone.
your eyes were blown open at his words, your jaw a bit agape. this whole time you thought he hated your guts, but in reality, it was the complete opposite. he was just nervous around you. you didn’t even know someone like him could get nervous around women. before you could reply, you felt his arms wrap around you, knocking the breath out of you due to shock. “im sorry, y/n. please forgive me. it hurts to see you cry, and it’s even worse knowing it’s my fault”, he apologized, his voice dripping with sorrow. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even find words. you were shocked to say the least. sanji took the silence as a form of not accepting his apology, so he sighed. “it’s alright, i understand, i’ll-“, “NO! no, wait. i’m just shocked, that’s all… i forgive you… it’s alright”, you yelped, grabbing onto the sides of his arms. his eyes were wide for a moment, but quickly softened. a small smile grew on his face as he looked at you .
“you know what would be a nice make-up gift, though?”, you started. “what is it? i’ll do anything, you name it”, he answered quickly, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes. just as you were about to speak, your stomach let out a loud grumble. the two of you froze for a second. “guess my stomach spoke for me, huh?”, you laughed. sanji let out a light chuckle.
“one fresh plate coming up!”
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© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!
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eddiethefreakkmunson · 2 months
Note
I saw your post about requests…
If you ask Eddie randomly, “When guys say sit on my face, do you mean hover or sit?” And of course Eddie means sit. Sit like a chair. So he decides to prove that’s exactly what he means.
I had this half finished in my docs titled ‘Lilthbunny request’ and it has taken me so long to finish it that you changed your name 💀
I'm sorry and thank you for requesting it 💕
This is just pure shameless smut ☺️
Word Count: 1.8K
Content Warnings: 18+ Only, Friends to lovers, Smut, Oral Sex (f receiving), Fingering, Both Eddie and reader are high, No specific mentions of weight but reader has insecurities about crushing him
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“Do girls watch porn?” Eddie asked as he sat crisscross opposite you on his bed. 
You felt giggly from the pot brownie you had shared with him approximately an hour beforehand. In your high state you had suggested a game of truth or dare which had very quickly evolved into only truths of an entirely sexual nature. Whilst a few of them strayed into  fairly personal territory most of the questions had been ones asked out of curiosity, things you had always wondered but perhaps been too shy to ask your previous partners about. With your inhibitions lowered now seemed as good of a time as any to get some of them off your chests.
“I mean… yeah?” You shrugged, another snigger escaping as you watched Eddie’s brows raise high in delighted surprise. “Obviously? What makes you think we wouldn’t?”
“Just thought you might prefer something a little more girly, that's all.” 
“Oh yeah?” you scoffed. “Define girly.”
“I dunno, your imagination,” He teased, you couldn’t help but laugh louder at the dramatic way he flopped onto his back. “You telling me you’ve not got one of those ridiculously cheesy romance novels in your nightstand? And don’t lie to me. I’ve seen it.”
“Okay so I do have one, doesn’t mean I don’t also like to watch it - and stop snooping through my stuff when I’m not there!”
You kicked Eddie in the shin to emphasise your disapproval at how nosey he was but he wasn’t really listening, his own thoughts were being flooded with the possibilities of what you got yourself off to. He snagged his bottom lip between his teeth as he adjusted his position so that the stirring beneath his soft, black sweatpants wouldn’t become painfully obvious. 
“What kinda stuff do you watch?” He decided to push his luck.
“Nuh uh-” You quickly shut him down. “You had your question, it’s my turn.”
“Alright, alright,” he held his hands up in defence, those were the rules you had agreed upon after all. “You go then.”
You copied Eddie’s position and lay on your back next to him, your fingers drumming lightly on your stomach as you thought about what to ask next. 
“Hmmm,” There had been one thing you were always worried about that you had felt too awkward to ever ask for clarification on. “You know when a guy says sit on my face? Do they really mean sit or… hover?” 
“Sit,” Eddie answered vehemently without missing a beat, his head falling forward to accentuate his answer with a nod.
“Really?” Despite his confident answer you sounded like you didn’t believe him. “Can you breathe?” 
“Yeah, you just breathe through your nose,” he shrugged again. “And even if I couldn’t, that is exactly how I wanna kick it anyway.” 
He expected you to laugh, to call him a weirdo and playfully kick him again but you didn’t. Instead you were unusually quiet, he glanced over at you to see what your deal was and found your face set in deep concentration. Almost every time you had engaged in the act you had been far too self conscious to be able to enjoy yourself. Always too worried about your partner’s comfort. Were you crushing them? Were they enjoying it? Was it taking so long that they needed a break for some air? You were so in your head about it that you never even came close to an orgasm. 
“You okay?” He asked when several seconds of silence had passed, you jumped when he reached out his pointer finger to poke you in the ribs. 
“Yeah,” you scoffed, swatting at his hand.
“You sure?” He pried, watching your features intently while he tried to guess what you were feeling. “That last question got you thinking about something?”
You sighed and pulled the neck of your t-shirt up over your face, unable to look at him as the conversation crossed the line back to a personal side. 
“No… Maybe,” You groaned and he tugged your shirt back down with a smirk until only your eyes were peeking out the top. “I guess I just feel awkward, like every time I just feel like they hate it you know.”
“Do they do something to make you think that? Or say something?” The pad of his finger drew lazy patterns across the bare skin of your forearm, perhaps it was the edible still flowing through his system but he felt compelled to touch you while he comforted you.
“No they didn’t do anything, I guess I just wasn’t totally comfortable with them.” 
He hoped what he was about to suggest wouldn’t ruin your friendship forever, but as he watched the insecurities creeping their way across your features to replace the smiling, carefree beauty he was staring at five minutes ago he just couldn’t help himself. 
“Well,” he started almost apprehensively. “Maybe you should try it with someone you are totally comfortable with. Someone you trust… Someone like… Me?”
He half expected for a second time for you to laugh in his face. To tell him he was being ridiculous and that you didn’t see him that way. But as you let your shirt slip down far enough to reveal the rest of your face you were looking at him with nothing but complete sincerity.
“Are you serious?” Your voice came out barely a whisper.
Eddie turned on his side to face you and nodded, reaching out with a shyness to his touch as his fingers danced along the waistband of your jeans. You exhaled a shaky breath when he expertly popped the button and he encouraged you to shuffle the denim down your legs.
“Can I kiss you too?” He asked hopefully, he had fantasised about the feeling of your lips pressed to his many times and he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to experience it for real, especially when he didn’t know if this would ever happen again.
“Please,” you smiled and he didn’t waste another second, his hand cradled your jaw to gently pull your mouth to his. 
Your foreheads bumped and his perfect nose grazed the bridge of your own as your lips moved softly together. Short breathy sighs, and hushed whines quickly grew rushed and desperate, months and months of lust and pining for one another finally boiling to the surface. Eventually you ended up on top of him, your thighs straddling his hips and the heat from your now soaked core grinding against his stiff cock was starting to make him feel lightheaded. He was struck with the overwhelming need to taste your wetness on his tongue. His palms circled round to cup the meat of your ass. His fingers dipped beneath the cotton of your underwear and you shifted enough for him to rip the garment down your legs. Once your thighs had settled back on either side of his hips he locked his arms around the backs of your knees and dragged you up his body until your pussy was hovering over his face.
“Don’t hold back okay?” He panted breathlessly. “I’m serious, I want you to fucking ride me until you’re cumming on my tongue, okay baby?”
Your stomach fluttered at how utterly filthy the words sounded tumbling from his lips but a part of you was still hesitant. Eddie sensed your apprehension and pecked a few reassuring kisses to the insides of your thighs.
“I’ll let you know if I need you to stop, okay? I’ll pinch you,” He promised, squeezing your hips to show you his signal. “Otherwise I don’t want you to even think about me, right?”
“Okay,” you agreed, biting your lower lip as you waited for him to make his move.
Any doubts you had vanished when he yanked you towards his face, his hands planted firmly on your hips to hold you in place. The first swipe of his tongue across your dripping centre tore a strangled cry from your throat. The moment your taste flooded him he couldn’t get enough, the vibrations from his satisfied moans travelling along his tongue only added to the delicious sensations he was bestowing upon you. Once he had lapped up  the arousal gathered at your entrance he focused the majority of his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, your hips jolted forward instinctively and his hands gently pushed against your ass, an encouragement for you to keep grinding on his face. The scratch of his five o’clock shadow against your inner thighs was surprisingly pleasant, it tickled you rather than feeling rough and only aided in driving you closer to your sweet release. Sensing that you were close Eddie manoeuvred you enough to allow two of his thick fingers to slip inside your slickness. 
“Oh fuck-” You gasped as the stretch of his digits filling you. “Oh my God, right there-”
He hummed with his lips still latched to your swollen clit, alternating between sucking and fast flicks of his sinful tongue as his fingers curled to find your sweet spot. He knew when he had found it from the way your walls clenched around him impossibly tightly, your head rolled back as every shred of self consciousness was ripped from your body with each thrust of your hips. It only took another handful of strokes before your shaking thighs were clamping around his head, the powerful climax tearing through you as you slammed your eyes shut and screamed his name.
“Oh fuck I’m cumming - Oh Eddie… Eddie… Eddie,” you moaned over and over until your cries turned to whispers.
Once your muscles had gone lax and the pleasure in your core had reduced to small pulses you slowly opened your eyes. You glanced down at Eddie with hooded lids and watched while he sucked each finger that had been buried inside you clean, growling an appreciative sound as he withdrew each digit torturously slowly. Once he had finished you noticed his breathing was strained and you realised you were sitting on the centre of his chest.
“Sorry!” You squeaked as you tried to shift some of your weight off him but he only reached out to grab hold of your hips. 
“Stay,” he grunted, his voice husky.
“You can’t breathe!”
“Worth it,” he huffed, his gorgeous smile spreading across his face with pride at how hard he made you cum.
You leaned down until your face was a mere inch from his. He stretched forward to chase your lips but you backed up just enough that he couldn’t reach you. 
“Thank you,” You whispered, a dreamy smile that matched his stretching across your own lips.
“Any time,” he chuckled. “Seriously.”
“Oh I’ll definitely take you up on that,” You assured him. “But right now I hope you’re ready to have your soul sucked out of your dick.”
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matchingbatbites · 8 months
Text
"What the fuck did you do?"
Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.
"Well-"
"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"
Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.
“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”
“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”
No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-
He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.
The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since. 
Jesus Christ.
“Eddie?”
The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”
In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄
”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“
Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-
He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.
”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.
“Eddie, what-
”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“
Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious. 
Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.
Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.
With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-
Anything other than what Steve actually sent.
'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'
And Eddie- 
Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath. 
Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?
This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.
‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’
He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.
‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’
Fuck fuck fuck.
Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’
Steve saves him by sending another message.
‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’
He- What-
Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.
There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.
‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’
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hemmingsleclerc · 1 month
Text
Reaction┃Charles Leclerc
summary: Charles finds out about Emma's interview on DTS
pt 2!!
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The racing season had come to an end and Charles was enjoying some well-deserved time off at home with his wife and young daughter.
One lazy afternoon, they decided to catch up on a recently released movie. They settled into the double bed that he shared with his wife, turned on the TV and were ready to spend an afternoon of relaxation.
As the movie started, Charles scrolled through his phone and casually checked social media. Suddenly, the familiar sound of his phone ringing interrupted the quiet afternoon. Confused, he picked it up and saw numerous notifications flooding in. Curiosity piqued, he opened Twitter and found himself tagged in a video from the latest episode of "Drive to Survive."
He clicked on the video and his confusion grew as the scene unfolded. The camera focused on a familiar face, but it wasn't Charles. It was his daughter, Emma Jules, standing in front of the camera with a small microphone and a huge smile.
Charles leaned forward and his eyes widened in surprise. The interviewer began to ask Emma about her father and what he was like outside the track. Innocent but revealing answers came out of Emma's mouth.
"My daddy is the best here," she began saying, her eyes shining with sincerity.''Sometimes he sings very loud in the car or in the shower. But you know what? He's not very good at it!"
''"He likes to dance while he's cooking with mommy, and he snores really loud when he's asleep. It's funny!"
Charles watched in horror as Emma talked about his private quirks and habits.
''He also cries a lot at Disney or animal movies, or is more interested in playing with my toys than I am. ''
Charles exchanged a bewildered glance with Y/N, who grinned, clearly finding the situation amusing. Emma continued, unaware of her father's growing embarrassment.
''Please tell me I'm dreaming, that Emma didn't actually just say that'' Charles said.
''Sometimes we tell mommy that we are going to grand-mére's house but in reality he takes me to buy new dolls or ice cream.''
''!Wait, what did she just say?'' Y/N asked with a frown.
''Nothing mon-amour, you know how children are, they invent everything'' Charles laughed nervously, trying to avoid his wife's accusatory gaze.
''So that's what they did on the weekends, huh?''
''I have no idea what she's talking about, I swear''
''He also likes to help me make friendship bracelets for my friend and also lets me do his hair and makeup with my princess makeup set that santa gave me for Christmas, he always says that he looks very cute.''
''Jesus Christ, this is not happening, I'm gonna die''
By this point, Y/N couldn't contain her laughter and Charles's face turned several shades of red as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. He didn't expect his daughter to become the star of "Drive to Survive" in such an unexpected way.
The camera then panned slightly, revealing Charles in the background, completely unaware that he was being featured in his daughter's candid interview.
"Looks like you've been exposed, my love."
''!Emma Jules Leclerc, come here right now! You're grounded for life!''
@barcelonaloverf1life
@llando4norris
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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hiiii so i might’ve been stalking your blog for the entire 3 hour car ride :33
can i pretty please request more aftercare fluff w/lucifer? i looove the way your write him!🫶🏻
have a good day/night‼️‼️
a/n — I meant to do this SO much earlier! Anyways i’m super sleepy right now and lowkey just want to write fluff so here’s this!
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“Luci, you did so good. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” you coo down at Lucifer as he came down from his high.
It had been a particularly intense night, sex-wise, and it showed on the poor man’s face. He looked terribly spent and drenched in sweat. 
His body was littered with love bites and bruises from you, adding to the pathetic image of him sprawled out on bed.
Your heart ached at the sight of him, “Aw, sweetie, did I go to hard on you?” You massage his cheek with your thumb, he leans into you.
“No it was— god, it was amazing. You were amazing,” He gazed up at you adoringly, “You are amazing.” 
He looked at you with large doe eyes, “Can I help clean up, or anything?” He almost pleaded, desperate to help you.
Warm feelings of affection flooded your chest, “Lucifer,” you draw out, “Baby, you’ve already done so much for me. Give yourself a break, you look beat.”
Contrary to your point, Lucifer felt like he hadn’t done enough for you tonight. He almost felt guilty for receiving your love, especially if he didn’t think he reciprocated enough.
“Angel, please, I wanna help.” His eyes fell on you once again, gazing at you as if you put the stars in the sky.
He looked like a lost puppy, waiting for your command. You took pity on him.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the sweetest, prettiest boy ever?” You spoke, words laced with sugar as you leaned down to plant kisses all over his cheeks. 
He giggled dumbly, once again looking up at you and waiting for instructions on how to help.
“How about—“ you think, there wasn’t much you wanted him to do, especially in his state “—how about you sit here and look pretty while I run a bath?”
“My dear.” He warned, drawing out his words in a kinda of whine. 
He didn’t look happy with this answer. As much as you wanted him to take it easy, he desperately wanted to help you clean up.
“Alright, I’ll go run a bath and you freshen up the area, how’s that sound?” you inquire, earning a much more approving expression.
With extra effort, you carefully helped him and yourself off the bed, planting a kiss on his forehead.
He was obviously in pain as he left to go get a washcloth and fresh sheets, but as he was so determined to be of service to you, you let it slide.
You ran the bathtub water to a good temperature and lit some candles around it. When the tub looked, smelled, and felt appealing enough, you called out for Lucifer.
“How’s it going it there, babe? ‘Tubs ready,” you dip your toe in the water before sinking in fully.
“Be there in a moment, my love,” He called back, voice half-gone and groggy.
When he finally shows up in the room, he looks absolutely exhausted. Although objectively cleaner, he looks miles more disheveled than he did before tidying up. 
Once again, your heart fills with love towards the man. He was already tired, and still put forth effort to clean up, just so you had to do less work.
“Come here, sweetheart,” you coo at him, opening your arms and welcoming him in the bathtub.
All but reluctantly, he slinks towards you and practically falls into the water. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him close to your chest.
He sighs and rests his head on you, happily curling up into you in the warm water.
“Hm, what candles did you light?” he asks quietly.
“I think something vanilla-y. You like it?” 
“The vanilla ones are my favorite. I think this is vanilla bean,” He hums softly into your chest. You rub his back your hand and use the other one to fish over the side off he bathtub.
There, you pulled out three oddly specific rubber ducks; a yodeler duck, a chef duck, and a duck that actually blows bubbles out of his snout. These three were Lucifer’s favorite.
He gave a small gasp when you pulled them out and set them into the water. You could see him regaining a little energy. 
“You know, the yodeler one has an interesting back story,” he practically gloated, pulling the ducks close to his chest. 
“Oh?” you question, “Well, please share, then. Don’t leave me on the edge of my seat.” You pull him closer to your chest as he holds the yodeling duck up in the air.
“Well, I actually got the materials in a different layer of hell. The craft supplies was good but the food was terrible there,” he rambled on lazily.
Increasingly drowsily, he explains its back story and how he got to work and little details like that. Every now and then he would look over his shoulder to see if you were still listening, or even cared.
To his surprise, you always were. He subconsciously snuggled further into you. Sleep crept into his words every time he spoke until it was undeniably time to get out.
You were exhausted yourself. You lazily got out of the bathtub and dried off, Lucifer following soon after. 
As to both get comfortable in bed, you rest your head on his shoulder and realize he had brought the ducks with him.
“Can I— can I keep explaining?” He asked timidly, yawning afterwards.
You pull him close and wrap your arms around his stomach, “For as long as you’re awake, sweetie.”
He smiled, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he was passed out. Just as suspected, in few short minutes of Lucifer’s rambling, you were both sound asleep. 
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a/n — okay I HAVE to get some Vox content out after this because I have been lacking so much. There are lots of requests so expect more of him soon.
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